A Simple Gift
by TurtleHeart
Summary: When both Will and Jack are stabbed by Jones on the Dutchman and Jack has a chance to save one of them, by stabbing Jones’s heart, whose life will be chosen? REVISED.


Disclaimer: All belongs to POTC except the changed plot

**A Simple Gift**

Opening his eyes, Jack's world was sideways, but the key to the chest was straight. He looked at it a moment then saw Will slam against the side of the ship. His mind clearing more and more, the chest was spotted near the key. With all his might, he ran between men, knelt, unlocked the chest then stood.

"Tell me William Turner, do you fear death?" asked Jones, his blade on the edge of Will's throat.

"Do you?" asked Jack.

Curious, Jones's attention turned. The curiosity became fear and wonder as he saw his heart in Jack Sparrow's palm, a broken sword held above, and the Dead Man's Chest empty, filling with rain.

Jack glanced past Jones to see Will turn to Elizabeth, noticing the hope on their faces.

"Heeding tonic holding life and death in the palm of one's hand," he noted with pride.

"You're a cruel man Jack Sparrow," said Jones with a tilt of his head.

"Cruelty is a matter of perspective," Jack told him.

Jones nodded subtly. "Is it now?" he asked curious.

In a single swift movement, Jack felt his world collapse as steel went through his belly. The heart and broken blade slipped from his hands. Unable to breathe, he slowly lowered his head.

The hilt of a sword was the sole item exposed from his body. Slowly, the remaining length of the sword was removed, dripping with fresh blood.

He felt himself fall to his knees as he clutched his belly.

"JACK!" Will cried in horror.

Elizabeth screamed until her lost breath cut her off. She trembled, unable to move to the pirate.

Will suddenly stood, moving to Jack.

Jones pulled at his hair, slamming him against the mast. "Do you fear death?"

"No," Will told him confidently.

Jones ran his sword, with Jack's blood still warm, through Will's chest. "I didn't think so," he noted.

Will crumpled beside Jack.

Jack looked at Will, tears coming to his eyes.

The heart was dropped between them along with the broken knife.

"Take what you want most Jack," said Jones. "Yours or his."

Jack looked at Will then at his wound. He shut his eyes and he shook his head.

Jones shrugged. He raised the sword over Will's body. "Then I'll decide for you."

Elizabeth shrieked.

Jones was shoved against the side of the ship.

"NO!" screamed Bill Turner. He took his son's sword and led Jones away.

Jack watched as Elizabeth crawled to Will and took him into her trembling arms.

Will breathed sharply as she moved his body. He limply lied in her lap.

Elizabeth held him, shaking her head as her eyes filled with tears.

Jack watched as the heart of Davy Jones beat between the two of them. He glanced from the heart, to Will, to his blood dripping between his fingers, and back. They were both dying. Yours or his. Which one are you going to let live? Jack looked back at Will. He was gently held in his wife's arms. Elizabeth was pleading. Jack shut his eyes, both filling with tears of knowing whose life he was about to chose. He opened them as he brought his sashes around the wound. Tying them tighter, he pulled with all his strength; he would need every moment of it.

Reaching for the heart, his mind told him no. This wasn't right. It shouldn't have to be like this, but it was. Will couldn't be saved and he probably would last much longer anyhow. It wasn't right though. He didn't want it to end like this. It wasn't supposed to end like this.

Jack shook his head as he wrapped Will's fingers against the blade of the broken knife. Tears slowly fell from his eyes as his hand trembled. This was right. It was going to end like this. It was the only way.

He shut his eyes as he released Will's hand.

His.

Opening his blurry eyes, he watched as Will's lifeless fingers fell from around the blade that was through the heart of Davy Jones.

Feeling cold, but with strength, he glanced around the ship.

Davy Jones looked at them with wonder and, unusually, peace. He fell from over the rail into the center of the maelstrom.

The crew silently looked at them, slowly approaching.

Bill's eyes met Jack's.

Jack nodded slowly.

Bill shut his eyes. After a moment, he reached for the black knife in the rail and slowly approached his son. He knelt at Will's side.

Elizabeth held Will tighter. She felt him losing life more and more. "No, Will, stay with me. You're going to be all right. Stay with me. Please."

Will's eyes cracked open. They met hers for a moment. He tried to say something. They all believed so. The strength he had for that moment faded. His eyes shut. With a heavy sigh, he slumped against her. Everything on his body went limp.

Elizabeth shook her head as she cradled Will's face in her palms. She waited a moment for him to move. Terror passed across her face as her eyes widened in realization.

"No! Don't leave me! Will! I won't leave you! Don't leave me! Will!" she screamed.

"Bill, do it," whispered Jack. He attempted to pull her from Will's body. Hurting himself more and losing more blood, he fell to a knee.

"Elizabeth, leave," Bill told her as he pulled her away.

"I can't leave him!" cried Elizabeth.

"He's dead. There's nothing more you can do," shouted Bill.

"Elizabeth please," pleaded Jack. She looked at him. "They're going to make him captain luv. Don't watch. Please."

Elizabeth looked around as the crew surrounded Will's body, chanting.

Part of the ship. Part of the crew. Part of the ship. Part of the crew.

Suddenly remembering something Bill told her about being captain, she shut her eyes and ran for Jack.

Jack took her hand, already having his plan devised. He led her to a rope. "Hold on," he told her before firing his pistol high above the rope. He held on himself.

Elizabeth watched for only a moment as Bill lowered the knife into Will's body. She screamed in horror, squeezing her eyes shut.

The sail attached to the rope carried them high into the air, catching the breeze.

Jack's hand's slowly began slipping. He shook his head to clear it as much as possible. Shivering, he knew time was fading. There was one single task that required the rest of the strength he owned inside his weakening body. Cool water around him took him from his thoughts.

Thankfully, the Pearl was right next to them.

Being the closer of the two, Elizabeth climbed aboard.

Jack followed her. He stumbled on deck. Retrieving his balance, he clutched the rail as well as his belly. He felt the wet blood spot.

"Captain, you are right?" asked Gibbs.

Jack nodded as he pulled his coat over the wound. "I'm fine Mr. Gibbs. Truly, I'm fine," he told him with an attempted smile.

"Good, there's still an Armada out there and I think now is the best of times to embrace that noblest and oldest pirate tradition," advised Gibbs.

"Never was one for tradition," admitted Jack as he began for the helm. He depended on the rail to keep his balance and leaned against it as he climbed the helm stairs. Reaching the wheel, he fell against it. His knees gave again. Quick to his reflexes, both hands clutched it, saving himself from falling.

"Jack," said Gibbs, knowing something wasn't right.

Elizabeth trailed him to the helm. Her face was pale and grave eyes stared off somewhere even though they gazed into Jack's eyes. She seemed to be a walking corpse.

Jack scanned the horizon for the Endeavour-a simple find-and for something else that would soon return. The smallest of smiles spread across his face as a ship suddenly surfaced from the depths of the water. It was true after all.

The Flying Dutchman sailed opposite the Pearl towards the Endeavour. With each passing moment, the sea life on the side of the ship washed away and returned to the sea. The sides began to gleam again and the white sails did not bear as many holes. Even more comforting was the sight of sea life falling from the crew.

Jack's eyes scanned across deck. He blinked away the blur as he saw a man at the helm with his back turned and hands tying a bandana around his head. A smile widened right before the man turned.

Will grasped the wheel with his right hand. Not a moment later, his voice rang out louder and clearer than it ever had. "Fire!"

Jack stared at Will. From the distance they were apart, he saw the massive cut upon Will's chest beside his heart.

"Fire," he dully whispered to Gibbs.

His eyes could not leave Will.

Will looked strong and healthy. His eyes were bright and the pain was gone. Life returned to his body. His soul had come back. His world was bright and new again. Life was new to him.

Jack's attention turned to the fireball behind him. He smiled. That was that. Cutler Beckett was no more. He did what he set out to do since he sold his soul to Davy Jones thirteen years ago.

"They're givin' up!" shouted Marty as he pointed to the Armada that began retreating into the fog.

The crew of the Black Pearl danced and shouted in joy. All around, on every ship, was this similar behavior. The battle was over. The war had ended.

Jack did all that he had set out to do, all that he needed strength for. There was no strength inside him. He felt the salty taste of blood poison his mouth as his belly seemed incredibly heavy; it barrowed down against him. His blood thickened. Finding no strength among his soul, he collapsed against the deck as his eyes blackened.

Elizabeth smiled at the crew then turned to smile at Jack. Her smile faded into horror. "Jack!"

She ran to his side and took his head in her arms.

"Jack!" cried Gibbs, kneeling beside his captain. He noticed the blood stained sashes. "Sorry Jack."

Needing answers, he took a knife and cut through Jack's cloths. Within a single moment, Gibbs's eyes moistened.

Having rushed to his side, Barbossa dropped to his knees and bundled the sashes agaisnt Jack's wound. He pressed down as hard as his trembling hands would allow.

The amount of pressure caused Jack to moan as he regained consciousness.

Jack looked at the two of them, trying to recognize their faces.

"It's me Jack. It's Elizabeth," whispered Elizabeth.

"I know," said Jack before choking on blood and his eyes closing again.

"Jack! Jackie!"

Jack felt trembling arms underneath him. His face rested against warm, dry clothes. He was lying in strong arms against a strong body.

"Jack!"

Knowing that voice, but finding it difficult to believe, Jack opened his eyes. He gazed into his father's eyes with confusion.

"Jack, it's me. It truly is me," said Teague, holding his boy closer.

"Father," whispered Jack. He reached to his father's face. His hand fell limply down Teague's chest.

Teague moved aside the sashes to look over the wound. He pressed as with as much pressure as he could against Jack's belly.

Jack moaned again.

"I can save you Jack. Hold on," said Teague.

"Land, get me to land," whispered Jack weakly.

"Hold on Jack, I'll get you to the Cove. We'll stitch this up and you'll just need rest," said Teague.

Jack's head rolled from side to side. "Land."

Teague better supported Jack against his body. He lifted his son then rushed him into the longboat he used to come over to the Pearl.

Elizabeth, Barbossa, and Gibbs followed.

"Ragetti, Pintel, row us ashore," Gibbs ordered.

Seeing their captain, the odd pair nearly jumped over the rail into the longboat.

"Hurry," said Teague. He stared down at his son as Jack coughed up blood. He pressed harder against Jack's belly.

This time Jack didn't so much as flinch. Instead, he shivered and struggled to breathe.

"Hold on Jack, we're almost there," pleaded Teague, holding Jack closer against his warm body.

Pintel and Ragetti rowed as quickly as their arms took them. Not even they knew they could row as fast as they were.

Teague's eyes never left his son. He watched as color faded from Jack's face. He felt Jack's body weighing more and more upon him.

The moment the boat landed, Teague leapt onto land. He carried Jack farther into the sand then knelt, allowing Jack to partly lie in the heat.

Jack's eyes did not open. He was breathing, however, it was weak and in gasps.

Teague set his hand against Jack's cheek, pulling his face against his heart. "Jack please, come back to me. Open your eyes. You're going to be all right son. Hold on."

"Let me go."

"No," whispered Teague, looking into Jack's eyes.

Elizabeth knelt beside Jack, her eyes filling with tears.

Jack's hand fumbled for the compass. He slightly lifted it above him and out to her with a trembling hand. "She's yours Elizabeth, until Will is free."

"The Pearl?" wondered Elizabeth, taking the compass.

Jack nodded.

"No, you're going to be all right Jack," whispered Elizabeth.

"It was him or me. I chose him," Jack told them.

"Why?" asked Teague.

Jack looked at his father. "I love him."

"I love you Jack," whispered Teague. "You can't die. I love you. I'm so proud of you."

Jack's eyes moistened with tears. "I have everything I ever wanted then. I only wanted to be loved. It was my dying wish. Ironic isn't it?" He gave a laugh then choked.

"Not amusing Jack," Barbossa told him.

Jack leaned against his father, his breaths becoming more strained and apart. He shivered. "I'm so cold."

Teague, pulled him closer. "Hold on son please."

"You called me son," noted Jack, looking at his father's face.

"You have to hold on," said Teague.

"Will, he's captain now?" asked Gibbs. Jack gave a nod. "Then he can ask you. Jack, you can become a crewmember."

"I don't want to," said Jack.

"Why?" asked Teague, his voice cracking.

"It's better this way," said Jack.

"No it isn't!" shouted Teague.

"You don't have to worry about me again," whispered Jack between gasps. "Will won't be jealous…when I'm with Elizabeth…she'll never see me again…I…won't bring Will into any more trouble…" He choked and coughed. "I'll never…never be hurt again."

"Jack, please don't die," pleaded Teague.

"Let me go," said Jack.

Teague shook his head. He held Jack tighter against him. He tucked Jack's head under his chin. "You knew you wouldn't survive even if we helped you didn't you." Jack nodded. "Why come to land?"

"Soul free…" whispered Jack. "Won't let Will…blame self."

"Why did you do it Jack?" asked Elizabeth.

Jack looked at her with weak, near dead eyes. "You live with half…of Will…better than nothing…better man than me…have Bill again…finally live…"

He breathed sharply as he inhaled. His body violently shook as he couldn't breathe. He choked and coughed up blood.

"Jack please," pleaded Teague desperate. "I'm sorry for everything I ever did. Give me another chance. Don't die like this. I can save you. Let me save you. Let me heal you, bring light back, bring warmth…let me love you."

"Will…taught me…love," whispered Jack. "Tell him that…I love him…would have…given heart to him…"

"Jack," began Elizabeth, tears running from her eyes. "I love you."

"I know," whispered Jack. "Love him more."

Elizabeth nodded. She took his hand, feeling him weakly grasp it.

Teague set his palm against Jack's cheek.

Jack looked into his father's eyes with half open eyes that struggled to remain open.

In that gaze every question they had for each other was answered. The answer was simply love.

Teague's eyes pleaded. There was still much more behind them, so much more he wanted to say to Jack and do with him and apologize to him.

"I forgive you," breathed Jack. Nearly the rest of his strength was used to clutch his father's hand against his face.

Teague's eyes poured with tears. "Go," he pleaded.

A single tear rolled down the side of Jack's face as he gazed at his father.

Teague listened as Jack's breathing faded while gazing into his eyes, finding sudden peace with his son.

Jack's hand slipped from around his father's, falling against the sand. His head fell against his father's heart. The last minute amount of strength left in his soul gave his settled heart one last beat before remaining still.

Teague looked into his son's eyes, seeing no life or spark. They gazed back at him cold and dead. He gently brushed his trembling hand across Jack's eyes, shutting them. He nodded then choked on his tears.

He let out a great cry as he began crying aloud. Tucking Jack's head below his chin, he cried into his son's hair as he rocked back and forth.

Elizabeth stared, silently crying.

Gibbs shut his eyes as he bowed his head.

Barbossa shut his eyes as his body slumped low in the sand. He removed his hat from his head that bowed as low as the rest of him.

At the longboat where they had been the entire time, Pintel and Ragetti sat down. They did not look at each other.

"Jack!" Will shouted, suddenly coming onto shore.

Bill came behind him, just as anxious. Though, within a moment, he slowly walked.

Will rushed to Jack's side and knelt. He tore Jack from Teague's arms.

Jack limply fell against him.

Will shook his head. He shook Jack's shoulders. "Jack, please. Don't be dead. Please. Jack," he pleaded silently. He held Jack's body against him. "Please don't be dead. You can't be. You're Captain Jack Sparrow. You can't ever die. Ever. You have to be the last pirate on Earth. You have to wake up. Wake up Jack. Please."

Though, now, he knew Jack wasn't going to wake. Jack wasn't ever going to wake. He tucked Jack's head against his chest as his crying eyes stared toward the horizon.

* * *

Will continued to sit at the shoreline watching the sun move closer to the horizon; he hadn't moved for hours. His eyes were red and sore. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

Bill attempted to brighten him up with a smile.

Will shut his eyes, more tears spilling.

Seeing that wasn't going to be very successful, Bill sat beside his son. He wrapped his arms around Will, holding him close.

Will clutched his arms. Turning his face into his father's chest, he silently cried.

Bill hushed him, gently swaying from side to side and rubbing his back. He continued for what seemed like hours.

Will lifted his head to wipe his eyes and nose. "Why?"

"I don't know why," replied Bill.

"Why would he save me? Why didn't he want to be saved? I could have asked him," said Will.

"He chose you because you taught him what love was. He loved you Will. You taught him what it felt like to love another. He understood love. He didn't want to be saved because he brought you pain and it was his fault that you were placed in this situation. Doing what he did was all that he could do to repay you. He didn't want you to worry about him ruining your life. He wanted you to live on your own," said Bill.

"How do you know?" asked Will.

"I know Jack and I spoke with Teague," said Bill.

"How is he?" wondered Will.

"He's a mess," admitted Bill.

"I'm going to talk to him," said Will.

Bill nodded. That was probably best. He watched Will stand and gain his composure before leaving down the beach.

Will turned beyond the rocks from the cliff.

Teague was sitting on a rock, holding his son's hat, staring at the crossing swords marking the grave.

From where he was, Will saw Teague's back tremble. He slowly went beside him. Not knowing what to say, he just sat there. For a reason, hoping it to be the last time, he recalled Jack's burial. Feeling his uncontrollable emotion return, he shook his head then hid his face between his palms. He cried more openly than he had throughout the day. This time, he choked on the tears. Surprisingly, a hand rubbed his back. He shook his head, wanting it to stop. After a moment, a hand reached under his chin to lift his face.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered.

"You shouldn't be," said Teague.

"Yes I should. I killed Jack," said Will.

"Jack had a choice," Teague told him. "Jack knew he was going to die. He knew his wound would only give us a false hope. He chose you because he loved you and you deserved a life more than he did." Will shook his head. "William, Jack knew what he was doing. I know it doesn't seem that way. Jack does things for reasons of his own that seem right only to him, which is enough. You know he does everything his way. He never expected this to happen. I know it. He believed you were the better of the two."

"I'm not," said Will.

"Jack thought so. He also thought you would make a better person in the future. He wanted Elizabeth to have half of you. It was better than nothing. If you would have died, Elizabeth would have followed and he wouldn't be able to live with himself for much longer. He would join you. He doesn't take to guilt well. But, choosing you to live, he knew everything was going to be well in time. You would have Elizabeth and she would have you. In time, she will join you and you two can be together. He knew his sacrifice would be accepted."

"No it won't."

"In time it will."

"I don't think I can live with myself."

"Your heart is locked in a chest Will. You won't have emotion for much longer."

"Good."

"You know he loved you. You taught him what love was and how it felt to love another."

"That was no reason to die."

"He wasn't going to let you die. Will, he died settled. He found his vengeance on Beckett, brought balance back to the sea, set things right again, found a family, finally learned that he was loved and accepted by me. All he ever wanted was to know that I love him. He died with all that he ever wanted."

"It still isn't fair."

"Not fair? William Turner, you are alive!" shouted Teague. "My son sold his soul to death to save you because he loved you. If you carry out your life blaming yourself rather than living what life you have Jack's sacrifice will have been in vain. Don't make my son's life and my pain for nothing."

"I told you I was sorry," said Will.

They sat silently a moment, among their thoughts.

"You know, Will, Jack wanted to die on land so you wouldn't have to ferry his soul. As I said, he knew he was going to die. He didn't want you to do it. He wanted to tell you that he loves you and he would have given his heart to you. Jack's had a terrible life. He never understood what love was. The only love I ever showed him was allowing him to live."

"Am I to understand that you're glad he's…gone?" asked Will.

Teague nodded sadly. "I am. He's finally somewhere that won't hurt him. He can finally live without pain. The last few moments of his life were the greatest he ever lived."

"What should I do?" asked Will.

Teague looked at him. He set Jack's hat on Will's head. "You will become captain of the Flying Dutchman and do your duty as is required. Being Captain is not a curse as it often is perceived as. It is a gift. In your instance, it is a simple gift."

Will nodded. He turned back to Jack's grave. One sword belonged to Elizabeth, the other belonged to him. They were touching the black rock behind them. The sand in front blended with the sand across the entire beach. No one would suspect this to be a grave. An idea came to Will.

"Jack would have given his heart to me then?" he asked.

Teague nodded.

* * *

Will patted the orange sand. He stood and brushed the sand from his hands on his tunic. He pulled his arms through Jack's coat and tucked a loose curl into the faded red bandana keeping his wild curls from his face. That was finished and in the safest place it could be.

"He would have given it to you," whispered Elizabeth, coming behind him and taking his hand.

"That's why I gave it to him," replied Will. "No one but the three of us will know where it is. This island is in the middle of the sea, where no one will find it. This place does not look like a grave so he will be undisturbed. The swords will rust in time and become part of the earth. The sand above it will conceal my heartbeat." He looked at her with a smile. "Teague was right. Jack gave me a gift. He gave me the gift of life and a chance to start a new."

"Jack, in a way, has a heartbeat again," added Elizabeth. "He has your heart."

"Until the end of time he will have what he's needed all along," said Will.

"What's that?" asked Elizabeth softly, wrapping her arms around his arm.

Will traced the scar on his chest.

"A beating heart that will love him."


End file.
